I dreamt a dream of you

You once told me, long ago, of a dream you had.

One where you, billowing in muted creams 

and sandy browns walked along the warm shore,

intertwining fingers with a young girl.

You had not yet 

been graced with the presence of a child,

only a recurring memory of

a gift not yet given.

Miracle girl; that's what you call me,

seeing me in glimpses before my conception.

The young girl from your dream, 

with blurry features, 

mold into mine.

I begin to feel the joints of your fingers, aged

knuckles, and salted skin.

You dreamt me up, willed me into existence 

to continue down the sandy path,

interlocking our hands together.

In every dream, I am your miracle girl.